


No Rest

by Janecat



Series: Alone With You [9]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janecat/pseuds/Janecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quiet moments between them, Jason's rough hands gently exploring his body as though he's someone special. Like he's someone to be treasured. Dick misses him more than he could have ever anticipated. How can he explain that without sounding crazy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rest

It's late when Dick wakes up or really early, there isn't much of a difference. He can feel the blanket stuck onto his shoulder, the blood drying and adhering to the fabric in his sleep. He sits up peeling it away and stares down the foot of the bed.

“I'm not dying, you know. You don't have to look so mournful.” he sounds exhausted and feels even worse.

The figure shifts just slightly, “It's the opposite. I'm glad that you're here.” Bruce replies.

“I hit you.”

“It was reflex. I shouldn't have been so forward, I apologize for that.”

Dick tilts his head unsure of what he just heard, “You apologize? I hit you.”

“You didn't actually.”

“I meant to.”

“Did you?” and Dick feels like a child again. Like Bruce is trying to teach him something but there's no lesson here. Not as far as he sees.

“I- I dunno. Why did you even bring me here? I was fine.” It's only a small lie. He would've been. Eventually.

“I would hope by now you'd know better than to lie to me.” Of course. 

What does he know about Dick's past year with Jason? What he went through or felt. The things he needs. He can’t possibly know.

He swallows, throat dry, “It's my choice.”

“Dick-”

“I didn't need you. I don't. Things were fine - or would’ve been. It’s not like I belong here anymore anyway.”

“So Jason abusing you is a better alternative.” It's not a question, it's a push. The way Bruce always does with him. The way Jason did. It makes him feel sick, he's so easily played.

“He- I told you, it's different now.”

“And those marks on your shoulder and chest?”

Dick glares at his former mentor, “I asked him to. I wanted it. **Me.** ” his voice shakes a little.

Bruce's face blanks in that carefully calculated way Dick's seen a million times over. His anger deflates, he looks down at his hands. What is he supposed to do? Nothing makes sense and everything's upside down. He's amazed he can even string together coherent sentences let alone thoughts. He's sitting here with Bruce, who apparently isn't dead, who's trying to show him Jason only wants to hurt him. 

The thing is, he knows - he just doesn't care. The pain means nothing when the younger man holds him against his chest. The quiet moments between them, Jason's rough hands gently exploring his body as though he's someone special. Like he's someone to be treasured. Dick misses him more than he could have ever anticipated. How can he explain that without sounding crazy? 

“It must hurt,” Dick quietly says, “to lose two sons.”

“You're not lost, Dick.”

His lips quirk into an almost smile, “Now who's lying?”

Bruce looks right at him, blue eyes on blue, “You want to believe there's no hope for you because it's easier not because it's true.”

Dick watches as Bruce stands to leave, he wants to say something or maybe just ask him to stay but he can't get the words out.

The older man pauses at the door, turning his head to address him, “This is your home, it has been since you were eight. You will always belong here.” 

He sits now alone in the silence, hears the words repeat in his head, and laughs – actually laughs. Only Bruce would know how to make someone feel simultaneously better and worse about a situation so perfectly. He wants to believe him, he really does, but lying back down in the bed _alone_ he doesn't know if he can.

-

Tim sits outside while Dick showers, he tries to ignore how useless it makes him feel. That he needs watching after in case he breaks again. The sad thing is it's still entirely possible. The water burns against his skin and his mind wanders back to his last time with Jason. His back pressed onto the tile, hands keeping him still. Dick doesn't think, he lets his fingers trail back to the bite on his shoulder. Nails dig in and he lets out a breath. It's not enough but it's all he has. 

There's a knock on the door, Tim checking up on him. 

He takes a deep breath and calms himself as much as he can, “Almost done.” he feels like an invalid.

Outside Tim gives him a small smile that breaks in seconds, “Your shoulder's bleeding.”

Dick looks away, “It's fine.”

“I could bandage it-”

“No. It's fine, really. It'll heal on its own.” if he ever lets it.

Tim presses his lips together, “Well uh- I brought up breakfast.” he motions over to the nightstand.

They sit at opposite sides of the bed, tray between them as they eat. When Dick sees the bowl of brightly colored cereal he wants to laugh or maybe cry, he doesn't know which. Tim has a black coffee, toast, and a hardboiled egg. It’s like another memory of a time he’s almost forgotten. His little brother.

“You eat like an old man.” he says.

“And you eat like a five year old.”

A brief smile flutters across his face, “Some things don't change I guess.”

It's quiet for a few beats before Tim speaks, “Dick, would you stay if I asked you to?”

Dick sighs looking at the half empty bowl, “It's not that simple.”

“It can be.”

“It's not.”

“Why not?”

He draws circles into the blanket, it's already changed, Tim must have seen the blood stain, “No matter what I do I'm going to lose. Either all of you or Jason.” 

“Do you really think he cares about you?”

“Honestly? ...Probably not.” His gaze still fixed on the bowl refusing to meet his brother's eyes, “It doesn't change anything though.”

“It doesn't change anything?” he sounds hurt. Dick won’t look up. He can’t.

“Bruce is back, you don't need me. None of you do.”

Tim's hand reaches out lightly grabbing his chin turning his face towards the teen's, “I'm sorry but you're going to have to look at me at some point.” Tim's eyes are glassy with unshed tears, “I’ll make it simple. I lost Bruce and then I lost you. Now that you're both back there is no way I'm losing either of you again. You're just as important to me.”

His brother's hand drops and he stares down at the tray. Dick watches Tim's shoulder's rise and fall as he collects himself. 

“I'm sorry.” Dick says. It's not enough. It's one thing for his brother to be mad at him it's quite another to see his brother upset because of him.

“Just say you'll stay.”

Tim looks tired, really tired, Dick doesn't want to hurt him, “I'll stay. For a couple days, that's the best I can do.”

“It'll be enough.”

It's not.

Two nights later he finds himself heading back down to the cave. He hasn't been back there since the incident with Bruce and now that they're currently out on patrol it gives him a moment to be alone in the old familiar place. It's tempting to just grab a bike and leave, he could and wants to, but he promised Tim. Suddenly the screech of the Batmobile and red bird rolling in fill the cave, they're early. When Bruce gets out with a slight limp and Tim stumbles on his feet the alarms goes off in his head.

“What happened?”

“Your psychotic boyfriend.” Damian says, hopping out of the car, a few scattered scrapes on his face.

“Damian.” Bruce silences the young boy.

Dick's eyes widen, “Jason? What- He attacked you?”

“He caught us by surprise.” Tim says pulling back his mask.

He moves over to Bruce, “Are you OK?”

“I'm fine.” he removes his cape and cowl, “You need to go back to your room. You're not ready to be down here yet.”

“What?” he can't be hearing right.

Tim quickly steps in between them, “He just meant that with Jason your judgment might be... clouded.”

“So I should just go upstairs and pretend that everything's OK? That this isn't retaliation?” That it's his fault he doesn't say, “I can fix this.”

“You're not leaving.” Tim says, it's more of a command than anything. 

“Go back to your room, Dick.” Bruce's voice stern.

Dick laughs but there's no humor in it, nothing changes, “That's all I'm good for right? Following orders.” and he's been especially good at it the last six months. They might be impressed if not disgusted.

The older man offers no comfort, instead pressing his point, “When you can handle the simplest touch without erupting you may stay in the cave, until then you'll stay upstairs.” 

It's like a punch in the gut, Bruce calling him weak. Worthless. Anger rises inside him clawing its way up his up his throat and out his mouth.

“Maybe if you fucked me it'd help. Worked for Jason right?” he wants it to hurt. 

“Is a pair of callous hands all it takes? I expected more out of you.” and it all hits him right back in the face.

Bruce is pushing him again, Dick knows this but- he can't find the energy to push back. The anger's gone in a flash leaving him hollow. It hurts. It hurts because Bruce is right. He wasn't strong enough to fight off Jason. Dick let him take him, use him, make him what he wanted. He accepted it. 

“I guess you were wrong about me.” he says trying not to let the pain show through.

Tim will come upstairs and tell him things will be OK, that he just needs more time. Try to downplay Bruce's words. Try to make him understand and Dick will nod and say that he does. He'll apologize to Tim someday. Tell him he didn't want to hurt him but he can't stay.

Dick doesn't know what will happen next, how Jason will react upon his return. He could hope for a smile or a kiss but he knows better. Jason will take what he wants and toss away what he doesn't. Set him free in ways he's finally beginning to understand. He loves his family, he truly does, but he doesn't want to be their soldier anymore. He needs more and Jason's the only one who can give it to him.


End file.
